


A Deal Struck

by GoldenUsagi



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack, Devil Will, Ficlet, Humor, M/M, Supernatural Elements, borrowing some stuff from SPN's universe, don't mess with Will's dogs, like demon deals and invisible hellhounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 10:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8009155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenUsagi/pseuds/GoldenUsagi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crack.  Ten years ago, Hannibal sold his soul.  When the hellhounds Will sends after him don't come back, Will goes to investigate things himself.  It was just Hannibal's luck that he happened to have on hand an abundant supply of the only kind of meat you can bribe a hellhound with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Deal Struck

**Author's Note:**

> Quick little fic from this [prompt](http://cosmiccluck.tumblr.com/post/147341243297/devilwill-au-from-the-brains-of) on tumblr.

Hannibal’s dinner was interrupted by a rather insistent pounding on the front door.  When he opened it, there was a fell-looking man in a gray coat on the other side of it.

He rudely brushed past Hannibal into the foyer and stepped into Hannibal’s space.  “Where are my dogs?” he demanded.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I really must insist–-”

“ _Don’t_ lie to me,” he said, something in his eyes snapping dangerously.  “I know they were here, and I know they didn’t take you.  I want to know why.”

“Ah,” Hannibal said, things crystallizing in his mind.  Then he eyed the man speculatively.  “You are not the one I made the deal with.” 

“Salesmen make deals.  I’m not a salesman.”  He took another step closer.  “I’m the one who wants to know what the _hell_ happened to _my_ dogs.”

Hannibal’s lips quirked, the words giving him a very good idea of exactly who he was talking to.  The dogs of Hell only answered to one master.

“Come,” he said easily, “I’ll show you.  They’re in my basement.  Please.”  He smoothly gestured for the other man to precede him.

“They can’t be contained.”

“Not contained, no.  But they seem content enough to stay.”

Once at the door, Hannibal opened it, spreading his hand at the apparently deserted room below.  “I cannot see them, of course, but I hear them.  Are they all accounted for?”

“Yes,” the other said.  “But they shouldn’t be sated.”  He directed a glare in Hannibal’s direction.  “They only eat human meat.”

“Yes,” Hannibal said simply.

A brow raised.   “How could you know that?”

“I didn’t.  But it was the closest thing I had at hand when they first arrived.  I knew my time was up, but I still threw the hound meat in what I assumed would be a desperate ploy to distract it.  Imagine my surprise.”  He smiled.  “They’re quite docile, if regularly fed.”

“Human meat was what you just happened to have on hand,” he repeated, deadpan and skeptical.

“Would you like to see my freezer?”  When there was no reply forthcoming, Hannibal added, “Surely such things cannot be shocking to the Devil himself.”

“Shocking, no.  Surprising, yes.”

“Would you care to join me for dinner?” Hannibal asked, moving to the cabinet for another wine glass.  “I have enough for two.”

“You’re not getting out of this, you know,” he said, turning away from the basement door to watch Hannibal.  “You still belong to me.”

Hannibal met his gaze, unwavering.  “I never said I didn’t.”

The other man studied him evenly, one eyebrow raised.  “You’re an interesting one.”

Hannibal poured the wine.  “Is there a name you preferred to be called?”

He took the wine glass, the corners of his mouth crooking upwards.  “Will.”


End file.
